


Light Me Up When I’m Down

by ginger_infiltrator



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Biker AU, Blood, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Bruises, Butt Plugs, Emotional Constipation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Wounds, biker ren, i don't have feelings you have feelings, kink gone wrong, law student hux, minor tho - Freeform, really wrong, some disgusting tenderness, they're assholes, think your scenes through, vague mentions of violence, what can i say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7615456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginger_infiltrator/pseuds/ginger_infiltrator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Biker Kylo comes to Hux after a particularly trying day. It's not a relationship, I swear. Ok, kind of a little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Me Up When I’m Down

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. I swear this is mostly gore-free! Somewhat inspired by the assholes in my city and the drudging commute through downtown

Kylo weaved between the near-gridlocked cars sluggishly crawling in an afternoon rush hour stupor. As usual, he clipped corners and leaned whisper-close to the cars’ bodies to feel an extra shot of adrenaline. It wasn’t a good ride unless he had a little taste of disaster. Sometimes, if he wore the long jacket with ripped flaps, the leather would skim off the shiny metal of some Middle American sedan. 

He hadn’t lost control of his bike since he was twenty. That was a spectacular fall and a tracksuit of road burn. The other knights laughed themselves silly at the bar afterwards, as if Kylo had not nearly skinned himself alive on the pavement. The embarrassment didn’t deter him from further stunting, but gave it another small vibrating risk.

The sun was just beginning its slow drag towards the horizon, smearing a warm stunted rainbow behind it. Kylo kept his headlight off. At this point, if a pig managed to even catch him to issue a citation, they honestly had earned the right. Staggered car horns bleated inanely at his flanks, almost muffled by his bike’s racket and the thick padding of his full-face helmet. Commuters honked out of surprise, jolted from autopilot. 

His knuckles strung where he gripped the faintly vibrating handlebars. Little sharp spikes of pain leapt out from the purple undertones of soreness. His belly ached slightly as he tensed his core to stay upright and mobile. A lucky punch or two landed during that afternoon’s Official Business. Luckily no one had thought to bring something sharp to the brawl. Today there would be bruises, but all the blood lost came from split lips and brows, and broken noses, not ballooning switch blade slices. 

Kylo slowed slightly and snuck through the ever-narrowing gap between the vehicles as a light turned red. He stuck out one arm and let his gloved fingertips slide against the side-door of a shining Mercedes-Benz. He hoped the dye would smudge, leaving a little grimy bit of him on the luxe surface. Kylo folded back over his bike to dart through the intersection, narrowly dodging a brave little Volvo that lead the crosswise charge.

Dying sunlight refracted off of the chromed towers in this part of town. Kylo knew this route very well. He made it nearly every day, often with an anticipatory buzz sharpening all the architectural angles and edges. The city seemed much too futuristic here in contrast to his dusty vintage motorcycle and worn clothes. On his own turf, he would weave and wander widely, taking pleasure in the ramshackle neighborhood he made his home. Kylo belonged to the rough and ragged in a way he never found in his own childhood. There he could bare the rattier parts of his soul and see it reflected in the rusted-out hulls of cars or the peeling paint on some dilapidated Victorian. The gleaming moneyed heights downtown repelled him. The deep ache of his want overrode the discomfort. Kylo never deviated from his path in the more upscale blocks of the city. The scenery existed to drive him ever forward.

The incongruity he felt in his surroundings would almost deter his path. This was the only way Hux would agree to see him, and that fact kept Kylo on his route. He supposed that he could keep playing this game as Hux had made it. He could be that dirty thrill when Hux decided to go slumming. The thought that Hux would sneer and snivel at the crippled Victorian he shared with Phasma stopped him from ever bringing his paramour into his home. No, he would always be the one of the pair out of place, stick out like a stubborn cowlick on picture day. Not like Hux ever took him to his high-class haunts. To Kylo, it seemed the embarrassment cut both ways. Fine. He told himself it was fine. Almost every day, in fact.

He passed by bricked historical buildings shoulder-to-shoulder with communist-bloc style student residence halls which slowly but surely melted into shining high-rises towards the center of the city. Some of the pricier buildings housed the more lucrative of the university’s departments: stem cell research, law, and the like. 

A pitiful put-putting noise slid in beside him as the traffic thickened enough to hinder his progress. 

“Hey bro! Nice bike!”

Kylo turned his head so that the generic frat-boy on a second-hand beaten red moped reflected in the mirrored surface of his visor. It was always the same kind of idiot. At least there was only one this time. They tended to travel in packs. The muscled Neanderthal wore absolutely nothing that would save him from the ravages of the pavement, clad in shorts and flip-flops, a backwards ball cap and a stained wife beater that revealed his glowing red shoulders, a combination of vicious summer sunburn and a few cheap beers. A flimsy jersey sack hung from his shoulders, sticking moistly to the spreading damp patch across his back. 

Kylo rapped his stinging knuckles against his thick helmet. Maybe Cro-Magnon Man would take the hint. These children on their pathetic whirring machines never wore helmets, and all he could picture as he passed were the splattered remains of melons and cantaloupes on the films his driving instructor favored. Sometimes he remembered the sodden mess that slid out of a friend’s dented helmet after he had been pulled out from under a semi. This beefy student just threw him the horns. Fine. No loss there. Really he wanted to toss the jerk and trample his ribcage for being such an entitled, care-free asshole.

 

Kylo veered the wrong direction onto a one-way street, a brief jaunt until he tucked himself into his favorite alleyway. Well, as close to an alley as one could get here. There were no dumpsters or vagrants to keep him company. The aperture between buildings was just narrow enough to prohibit the balconies that studded the opposite side, but wide enough to let in a majority of the now-purpling sunlight. No rusted-out and rickety fire escapes. He left his bike in this relative security.

His visit coincided with one of the doormen’s shifts. Sometimes they weren’t behind the counter at all when he arrived. He removed his helmet and tucked it under one arm, shaking out his sweaty hair and shooting his best shit-eating grin at the doorman. This one only nodded and smiled. The older man that usually occupied this post turned up his lip whenever Kylo came, especially when he tracked mud on the crisp gleaming tiles. This new employee at least seemed more relaxed, an off-hours student with his books piled behind the jut of the desk. The reddish uniform seemed dull against his glowing brown skin, the sad crumpled hat perched on his wiry hair. He seemed pleasant enough. Kylo tried not to hate him.

On the elevator ride up, Kylo briefly considered putting the helmet back on to hide the mess splattered across his face. The last time he entered Hux’s apartment with it on hadn’t gone so well. Sure, they had negotiated the scene beforehand, but not with the building’s staff. All security had seen on CCTV was a masked man entering their building, thumping on some resident’s door, and then roughly shoving him back in and slamming it shut. They had seen quite a bit more, later, when they took the initiative to kick in the door, which actually was not even locked. 

Someone had bothered to call several times before the intrusion, but Hux was far beyond being able to answer and Kylo had been too distracted with the delicious sharp bite of nails into his bicep. So, the poor security guards had burst into Hux’s bedroom to find their resident pinned and pounded into the mattress by a half-clothed, helmeted madman. They mistook the puddle of drool and tears as some kind of distress. Kylo hadn’t noticed them enter the room, but sure as hell registered the hot prickling sting of Taser bolts as they dug into the exposed skin of his abdomen, delivering a high voltage shock that tensed his muscles and sent him careening sideways onto Hux’s hardwood floor. The rest of the memory was blurry. He faintly recalled Hux pulling off his helmet and tapping his cheek harshly, still red and furiously shouting at the now-cowering security guards. The ceiling swam above him, rippling with the fervor of Hux’s tirade just out of his line of sight. Kylo’s muscles twitched spastically, a small wave radiating out from the pinpricks at his side and diffusing down to his fingertips. 

Eventually the guards left. No one pressed charges either way, no matter how vehemently Hux promised he would. Somewhere along the way, the slight man had shucked off Kylo’s tight leather pants and had dragged him back into bed. Kylo’s electricity-addled brain couldn’t keep up with what was happening around him. He vaguely recalled how Hux clung to his back, hands curled tightly around his pulse points, monitoring the unsteady flutter of his heart. 

That was the first morning he woke up in Hux’s bed. He only had a brief moment to savor the afterglow. Hux fed him, yes, but practically shoved breakfast down his throat. He dragged both their bodies out of his apartment and locked the door behind him, ushering Kylo out past the mortified doorman so that Hux could make it to class on time. 

It was not the last sunrise Kylo saw in his bed. 

In the moment, he stooped to untie his boots’ dusty shoelaces and tugged the tongue down to loosen them. Kylo sauntered down the hallway to Hux’s door. As usual, he kicked his shoes against the front door, letting them topple haphazardly onto the nondescript welcome mat. He perched his helmet on top of one. He opened the unlocked door and strode quickly through the main room to the hallway leading to the bathroom and bedroom.

“You’re late,” he heard behind him.

“Good to see you too, Hux.”

“You’re late.”

“Ten minutes is not late.”

“By definition, yes it is.”

“Alright, Mr. Attorney,” he snorted, swerving left into the bedroom.

“Hey!” Hux griped. “You know the rules!”

The rules were, Kylo had to shower before he even set foot in the bedroom. Hux couldn’t stand the prevailing warm stench of engine grease, and cared even less for the amount of perspiration aggravated by the proper usage of road leathers. He compared Kylo to a sweaty beast enough times to hammer the point home. Most visits, water still beaded Kylo’s skin when Hux pushed him down into his sheets, his dark damp hair soaking the pillows. Somehow this was more acceptable. 

Hux gripped Kylo’s shoulder and swung him around in a haphazard arch to examine his face. Inevitable bitching died on his lips. Kylo tried not to smile. Hux’s brows furrowed as he pressed his thumb into the tacky dried blood bonded to his philtrum. The thin split in his lip widened with the pressure. Hux’s greenish-blue eyes narrowed as he pinched the bridge of Kylo’s nose, wiggling it gently. Kylo failed to suppress the flinch.

“Could be broken.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I’ll get the first-aid kit.”

Hux pirouetted and disappeared into his bathroom.

“I know how much you like playing doctor.”

“Shut up, Kylo.”

Kylo smirked and started peeling off his leathers which stubbornly stuck to his sweaty skin. His leggings in particular groaned as he shoved them down his thighs, leaving a red, irritated scrape behind. He whipped off his damp underclothes, tank top and boxers greying with perspiration and the small bit of grime he could never fully scrub off of himself. He threw all his clothes in one shameful stinking pile, tucked away in a far corner behind the door. He flopped into Hux’s bed, triumphant in the way his skin clung to the high thread count cotton sheets. A small exasperated sigh escaped the bathroom when the mattress springs squealed. 

“Really, Kylo?”

“I’m tired. And hurt.” Kylo pouted, hoping that his lower lip would slightly muffle his words and give Hux a full picture of his expression.

“Yeah, I’m sure you are. Also, I’m sure it’s all your fault, probably.”

“Maybe,” Kylo said, lurching over to pull open the drawer of a bedside table. He pulled out the sticky quarter-full tube of lube that he had stashed there overnight. “You’re still gonna take care of me, aren’t you?”

“Fuck you.”

Kylo grinned. He had fully pictured how this would go down on his ride over. He poured an excessive amount of lubricant on two fingers and shoved them into himself. He drew out again to apply more. He stretched his muscles as quickly as he could, rough prep part of the plan. He wanted a deep sting to mirror the aching in his abdomen and face where fresh bruises lay. He spread his legs far past what they were accustomed to, a metallic burn warming the tense tendons in his thighs. 

Kylo heard the patter of Hux’s footsteps but ignored him for the time being. He fingered himself quickly, now three completely enveloped, a slight incidental rubbing of his forearm against his erection. 

“This… this is not exactly what I had planned.” Hux said.

“No? Not too disappointing I hope?” Kylo cracked one eyelid to blurrily focus on Hux’s form. Loose lounge pants hung off of his hips, fluttering out from his slight frame yet still clinging to the wakening form of his cock. 

“You’re getting my sheets all filthy.”

Kylo turned his face and mashed his marred nose against the mattress. A coagulated damn burst, spilling a red iron geyser onto the white sheets. He faintly heard Hux groan, the pitch veering from exasperation sharply into the vicinity of need.

“You can buy new ones.”

The mattress dipped slightly as Hux kneeled between Kylo’s legs. Kylo tried to keep his eyes open, but his eyelids fluttered shut as Hux’s soft hand slid slowly up his chest.

 

“No, I think I’ll make you lie in these.” Hux said, gently mashing his palm against Kylo’s abused septum, smearing blood across his panting mouth and down his defined chest. He slid further down, grabbing Kylo’s still-thrusting wrist and pulling his fingers out of the warm clutch of his body. “You always were rubbish at fingering yourself.”

Kylo whined.

“Never could find your prostate. Did you get it this time?”

Kylo shook his head.

“That’s what I thought,” Hux said, sliding two fingers in and crooking at a precise angle to brush against the deep gland. “Better now?”

Kylo’s whines pitched higher with each press. 

“Please! Please I- Hux please! I need you!”

“Mmmm, where did these come from?” Hux ran the long fingers of his other hand across Kylo’s abs, pressing in where the skin mottled in shades of yellow and green. “I hope you put those gutter punks in the ER where they belong.”

Kylo nodded frantically and wheezed, thighs tensing and drawing up closer to his body. 

“Hux, Hux please.”

“Oh, I suppose you deserve this.” Hux ground his dick against Kylo’s pubic bone, tip slightly brushing the crick in his overlarge member. He slid further down, pressing insistently against the tender flesh of Kylo’s perineum before and slipping into his slick rectum. 

 

Kylo ground his hips down as hard as he could, hindered by the pulling distress of the bruises on his midriff. He gasped pitiful noises he had never heard from his own mouth as Hux undulated methodically against his prostate. The stretching drag against his insides barely sated him, his entire body burning for a violent stinging that Hux would not give him.

“Hux, harder, please! I need it harder.”

“No you don’t, you idiot.”

Kylo growled and grabbed at Hux’s asscheeks, gripping roughly and pulling down onto himself. The tip of one middle finger faintly brushed something hard an unyielding. 

“What’s this?” Kylo huffed out of a tense smile.

“I told you, this is not what I had planned,” Hux mumbled, nibbling sharply at his collarbone. 

Kylo circled the silicone base of the plug. “You were planning on being taken?”

“If you weren’t such a greedy whore,” he moaned, squeezed tightly by Kylo’s intentional contractions, “I would’ve gotten what I wanted.”

“Mmm, but this is good too, right?”

Hux devolved into guttural moans and yelps, quickening with every press of the plug inside of him. Kylo thrilled in finding the one bit of control left to him, and stabbed insistently on the silicone base to increase the force and depth slamming into his body. He drove Hux on with each jab to the plug, spurring the pace into the frenetic fucking he desperately craved since the last punch had landed on his stomach. He came, tensed at every point, only relaxing when the last bit of semen spurted weakly onto his spasming chest. An opaque pool drooled down his sternum.

Hux slowed, churning lazily through Kylo’s aftershocks. He bowed his head and lapped at the filthy puddle of salt, both sweat and semen, that spattered Kylo’s skin, slowing his thrusts into something gentle and full of intent. At each upswing, he dragged across Kylo’s prostate, sending a violent burst of reverberations through his limbs. Hux lapped at the copper tinge at Kylo’s lips, delicately biting down and finally releasing a warm burning stream deep into Kylo’s core. 

Hux sagged, panting against Kylo’s heaving chest. Hux tilted, one side of his ribcage digging heavily into his mattress. He wrapped his skinny arms, so frail but yet so tense around Kylo’s ribcage and spasming abdomen. 

Kylo smartly kept his lips closed as Hux’s winding arms clamped down harder. Hux’s nose prodded against the nape of his neck, lazily swaying back and forth in a vaguely comforting pattern. 

“I take it I’m spending the night?”

Hux sleepily hummed.

“You better not kick me out,” Kylo drolled, relaxing into a sore slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> So I tried to write something that wasn't wholly dependent on gore! How did I do? Direct all your complaints to gingerinfiltrator.tumblr.com. I kind of care. No, I really care. But I was too tipsy to beta this. Or care about grammar. Ooops. Yeah. Enjoy? Maybe? IDEFK I'm an asexual I don't know what I'm doing half the time.


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